Sunday
Picture 2
Kimmydonn's Choice: Both
Title:
Justin sat beside Lisa, leaning in to tell her, “I brushed, promise.”
Lisa snorted. She’d only met Justin the night before at the airport. She wouldn’t have noticed him at all except Ford recognized Justin’s guard, Darren. They’d only exchanged a handshake, but today, he’d be undressing and kissing her. The strangeness that was a shooting schedule.
“Lisa,” Mike called, light meter in hand and Jennifer, from makeup, beside him. “Set up?”
Lisa sighed and lay down on the sand. Two faces filled her vision as they hovered over her. Then they called Justin, who lounged on one arm, his elbow near her ear.
“Ready?” he asked, brown eyes soft, light shining off the skin of his bare back. He’d tossed his shirt before leaving the sidelines.
Lisa’s mind reviewed the scene, recalled her character and his. He was Donovan. She had thought he was gone for good, leaving her for a job and woman in Paris. He had come to surprise her. With all that in mind, she nodded and closed her eyes.
“Action!” the director shouted.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”
Blinking, she opened her eyes to find Donovan hovering over her head. “Good dream,” she said lazily, lifting her hands to cup his face.
“Not a dream,” he promised. “I’m here for you, Angela.” Angela shifted, but Donovan lowered himself, kissing her. “Really here.”
“But...Paris.”
“Didn’t have you,” he explained.
“It had her,” Angela said, pouting.
“I don’t care about her. I’m here for you.”
Lisa shivered and fought losing Angela entirely. It was often difficult when she felt unfamiliar hands on her ribs and breast. The kiss was intrusive, too, until she got her hold on Angela and reached to run her fingers through his hair, to pull him closer, to allow her shirt to slide off. They continued to grope for a minute until the director cut the shot.
Lisa pulled her shirt back on and sat up for Jennifer to fix her hair and makeup for a second take. She leaned back on her elbow to face Justin.
“So, how was Paris?” she asked. He had been shooting there the week before.
“Beautiful as ever. You’ve been?”
“A few years ago, yeah.” She nodded.
“Lisa?” a familiar voice called. She sat up at Ford’s feet. He handed her a bottle of juice. She wasn’t sure because of the angle, but he seemed redder than usual.
“Excuse me, Justin,” she said, reaching a hand to Ford who pulled her to her feet. He was flushed. “Something wrong?” she asked.
“Maybe. You don’t mind if I take off ‘til the end of the shoot?”
Lisa was surprised. Ford had been staying around longer, through more of each shoot. She’d gotten the impression he enjoyed it.
“Sure. I’m fine. You sure everything is okay?” she asked, resting a hand on his arm in concern.
“Yeah. You’re...really believable.”
Lisa smirked. “You mean I’m not normally?”
Ford rolled his eyes. “Of course you are. You’re just not usually so physical.” He cast a dark glance at Justin, which Lisa followed. Her eyes widened in realization.
“Oh, Ford.” She grabbed both his arms.
“Lisa!” the director called.
“Just a minute,” she yelled back. “Ford, take some space, but I want to talk about this tonight.”
He stiffened, straightening. “Talk?”
Lisa let him go and turned back to Justin. “It should be a good conversation,” she told him, donning Angela again, eager to be reunited with Donovan.
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